She found the office easily enough. It was just a regular pre-war office building with a normal lobby and elevator. She did notice that there were plush carpeted runners over the highly polished marble floors, which was unusual. Could it be to protect the delicate feet of the employees on the fourth floor?
When the elevator opened onto the office she was shocked at how bright, clean and, well, “normal” the office looked. She would have never guessed at the weird happenings that went on behind the main door. She gave her name to the friendly receptionist and was immediately escorted through the main door into a long hallway, which had many doors opening off it with a red light over each one, some off and some on. Could they all be recording studios?
The perky blond receptionist chatted away while leading her down the hallway. She was cute and blond and reminded her of Dolly Parton in “9 to 5”. She kept up a running monologue, “I am SO tickled that you decided to come on down and see us! M is a regular around here and he’s mentioned that he thought he had found some new talent. I am SO glad it was YOU! You’re gonna love it here—everyone who works here is so NICE! Someone brings in donuts every Monday morning because even in this funky little office, everyone HATES Mondays!”
She led her to a room where the light was on. They waited for a moment and when the light went out they entered. The room was smaller than Sally had expected and every wall was covered with sound insulation, making it feel a bit claustrophobic. The bright lights and cameras made it rather hot, as well. After the lovely lobby and office reception area, seeing the somewhat squalid studio was a let-down.
When she saw what they were doing in front of the camera her blood pumped harder.
She saw a very average-looking woman with dirty-blond hair drawn up in a ponytail wearing minimal make-up and a not-terribly-flattering one-piece bathing suit. But from her thighs down she was magnificent! She wore thigh-high black stockings and black patent leather boots that hugged her calves and laced up the front. She was the bitch-goddess incarnate!
She was methodically crushing an H.O.-scale train depot--waiting commuters and all. She lifted and lowered her boot so carefully it seemed as though she was moving in slow-motion. Her legs were well-muscled and must have been incredibly strong to be able to lift and hold in mid-air the four-inch heeled boots and lower them with such seductive precision. Sally could almost hear the screams of the helpless crowd lining the platform, unable to run for their lives into the tiny forest.
But that wasn’t the end. The train approached with a few toots and the performer paused, waiting for just the right moment to strike. The queen was ready to exact her vengeance!
The anticipation was almost too much for Sally. She felt her heart beating faster and blood rushing to her face and crotch, making her tingle all over. She hugged her elbows to try to calm herself and remembered the group of strangers with her in the room. The receptionist turned to Sally with a gleam in her eye and a wry smile, but no judgment. Everyone could feel the electricity of the moment before the train’s ultimate destruction.
And then the performer brought her boot down on the racing train, derailing it and making its wheels spin helplessly in the air. It whistled a few feeble toots, seeming to beg for its life, but the queen would not be appeased. She lifted her foot again and crushed the train so slowly, so completely, so coldly and Sally felt her Kegel muscles contract, rocking her body and making her gasp audibly.
The scene ended, everyone let out a collective breath and then turned to Sally with curiosity. The receptionist was practically glittering and said to Sally, “So, would you like to join us?”
How could she say no?
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